


The Fourth Quarter

by MyckiCade



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Heartache, Language, Literal Interpretation of Gates of Hell, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 15:59:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3073742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyckiCade/pseuds/MyckiCade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the biggest lie you've ever told. What is your reason, again, for being such a bastard?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fourth Quarter

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Notes: Yep, yet another oldie. As mentioned, I must caution you... This really is a pretty literal interpretation of the closing of the Gates of Hell.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. I am simply not that clever. This work of fiction is for fan enjoyment, only. No infringement is intended.

“I don’t feel that way about you, Kevin.”

It’s the biggest lie you’ve ever told, right next to the one you tell yourself about how it doesn’t hurt to see the kid’s eyes tear up with pain and shame. Embarrassment. The way he ducks his head and retreats from your line of sight, no, that doesn’t hurt at all. You sure as hell don’t act like it bothers you any. Even when Dean comes to question what you did to ‘the poor little nerd’, you brush him off, and simply go back to being a dedicated little Legacy.

What is your reason, again, for being such a bastard?

(Good thing you never answer yourself that, because it would probably be just another lie, anyway, right?)

The Trials are what need your attention. You don’t really have time for anything else, and you probably aren’t going to survive them, anyhow. Why bring Kevin into it, anymore than is necessary? Like a soldier off to war (why marry the girl to risk making her a widow?), you can’t bring yourself to risk breaking his heart.

Funny how that’s exactly what happens.

He keeps in contact, giving Dean the pertinent information, the wheres and whens and hows. You perform each task to specifications, trying not to think about the translator, about wanting to run to him to tell him all about them. Patiently awaiting word from Dean that the third task is ready to be tackled. Finally, word comes down. You tell Dean to be ready to go at eight o’clock the next morning. You slip out the door at a quarter to one, your brother still sound asleep on his well-earned mattress. This is something that you intend to handle on your own.

Only, it isn’t quite what you expect.

So, it all comes down to this. Just you, and the Gates of Hell. Quite literally. And, just like you pictured it, you aren’t getting out of this thing in one piece. You don’t have a snowball’s chance in Home, Sweet Home of killing off the swarm of demons staring you down from the other side of the doorway. (Beyond that, there isn’t much you can do to save yourself. It’s pretty much set in stone, after all). The local residents can’t cross. They wait. Cagey. It’s all up to you. Do you have the courage to take another step? Are you really the right one to complete these tasks?

You have to remain strong, scared as you are at your core. If you fail, your  _only_  three reasons to kick around until your eighties will be in mortal danger. (It’s nothing new, but, not really your favourite memory to revisit). This time, you intend to see it through, and close those damned Gates once and for all. No room for error. Dean is going to get his Happy Ending with Cas, and Kevin is going to be the Goddamn President. They deserve this, and you have the power to give it to them.

All it’s going to take is surviving being clawed-up and chewed-upon long enough to seal off the Underworld. Piece of cake, right?

You have to put one foot in front of the other, dagger in-hand, poised for the attack. Hands trembling. Think of Dean. Think of Castiel, and of Kevin, and of how they will benefit from this. Try not think of how it was your last joke with Castiel. Try not to think of all the pretty little chances you ruined with Kevin. Try not to smile as your thoughts shift to Dean, and the chorus of  _Blaze of Glory._ Funny how Bon Jovi is always good in a crisis.

You’re ready to charge in, head-first, when a familiar flutter stops you dead in your tracks. No, no,  _it can’t be,_ right? You’re just imagining things, hallucinations amongst the promises of eternal hellfire. Wouldn’t be the first time.

“Sam!”

That voice… No! You whip around, eyes wide, just in time to see Kevin break away from the hold of a bewildered-looking Dean. He’s running at you, full-tilt, and your brain barely registers anything beyond  _no, Kevin, what are you doing here?!_  Still, your arms go ‘round him the second that he is close enough, pulling him away from the Gate.

In an instant, he’s babbling, rattling off something that you have to strain to hear.

“Not doing it on your own. We’re gonna’ help. Can’t believe you left.”

He’s still in your arms, his own around your neck, which feels better than you want it to. He shouldn’t be here, he shouldn’t.  _They shouldn’t._  You look up, eyes darting between your brother and Castiel.

“He found a way,” Dean supplies, with a weak gesture in Kevin’s direction. Castiel nods in affirmation, and you look down to the shaking boy pressed against your chest. (Focus, Winchester).

Kevin turns wet eyes up at you, and nods. “We’re not leaving until it’s done, either.” There’s a conviction in his voice, one that you can’t deny, couldn’t fight if you tried. The same, intense determination is written on your brother’s face, and in Castiel’s battle-ready stance. They’re not playing around, and you know it. You aren’t going to go through this thing, alone.

They explain the plan. You almost can’t believe it, but, it just might work.

And, just like that, the Fantastic Four storm into Hell. Just like you never wanted, (but, admit it, you hoped for nothing less). You do your best to keep an eye on everyone at the same time, but that’s a one-way ticket to getting your ass handed to you. Castiel can keep a watch on Dean, if need-be. Kevin is the one to be concerned about. He’s holding his own in the back, two steps away from the entrance, reading an incantation out of an old, leather-bound book. Those words will be your salvation, your light in the dark.

It gives you a second breath, and you inflict a few more wounds. Pushing the line back.

Kevin gets the last word out, and you watch in fascination as the demons stop moving. They look just as confused as they should, unable to pass the invisible boundary that the incantation has created, separating you from them by at least twenty feet. Safe, and hopefully, it holds.

The next seconds are a blur, Kevin screaming at you, ‘Sam! Now!’, and the four of you rushing back for the door. Your hand has to be on the handle, yanking each door closed. And, there is no more satisfying sound than the surprisingly-soft  _click_  that comes with the final sealing of the Gates of Hell.

It takes a while for your mind to make peace with that one, that you  _did it._  You’ve all survived, more or less in the four individual pieces you began in (three-quarters of you are scraped-up, Castiel is low on mojo, and Dean is saying he’s pretty sure he’s dislocated his right shoulder). You’re probably going to need stitches at your abdomen (lucky you), but, that’s it, isn’t it? A small price to pay for the end to the nightmare.

And, Kevin. Not a single bit of him was physically harmed, you were able to make  _damn sure_ of that. He’s standing in front of you, now, cleaning out your battle wounds and patching you up to the best of his ability. You know you’re staring, but don’t really give a damn. He’s just beautiful, exhausted but  _perfect._  How the hell could you have turned this away? Bastard, indeed. Everything seems so hopeful, now, and you might still have a chance. A chance to fix it, if Kevin would just  _look at you._

“Hey, Kev?” you ask, once Castiel has dragged Dean back to his bedroom. There are some things you just don’t need an audience for. Kevin’s hands still for a second, but he still doesn’t look up at you. Now or never, Winchester. “Kevin, I’m really sorry.”

There they are, the dark eyes you have been missing, turned on you with confusion. “We just closed the Gates of Hell, Sam. You don’t have anything to  _apologize for._ ”

Sweet kid. “For what I said… About not…” You swallow. “Not feeling anything for you-”

You’re cut-off by the most gentle kiss ever to have touched your lips. If tears come to your eyes, then, so be it. Relief floods your entire system, watching Kevin as he slowly pulls back.  _God,_  he smiles at you, and there you go, hook, line, and sinker.  _You’re in._

There are no more words after that, just you pulling Kevin into your lap, and returning the kiss with ferocity. This is something well-earned, and, if there was to be a reward for completing the Trials, one sexy little Prophet is yours. And, you’re certainly not going to be humble about accepting.

Later, as you lay in bed beside your prize, fingers dancing through the dark hair at your shoulder, it finally sinks in. No more fighting, no more hunting. You can settle down, now. You can have that apple pie life that Dean always wanted for you. A life you can share with Kevin. You try not to think about how you nearly messed that up. Such a dumbass. Even through the hurt you caused, Kevin still fought for you, still found a way to keep you alive. Amazing.

You lean down, and press a gentle kiss to Kevin’s forehead, careful not to wake him. He had all the right in the world to run, but he stayed by your side. He saved your ass.

You’re just lucky enough to have a loud-mouthed older brother who apparently hadn’t been too shy to blab to the kid, “Who,  _my_  brother, hate you? Hell, no. Trust me, Sammy’s crazy-nuts over you.”


End file.
